


Lullaby for a Stormy Night

by Sylenis



Series: I guess there are now multiple babu fics? [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, In which Keith is a good dad, Storms Thunder and Lightning, crying baby, pry purring GalraDad Keith from my cold dead hands you cowards, set in the future way post s8, where is Pidge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 14:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17747459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylenis/pseuds/Sylenis
Summary: "I used to be scared of thunderstorms too." He says to her, a secret they can share. "The storms in the desert were so loud, and our house wasn't strong like this one."People ask for more Kidge babu, I bring Kidge babu ft.Keith being the best dad.





	Lullaby for a Stormy Night

**Author's Note:**

> If you don't like Vienna Teng I don't really know what to tell you. This was incredibly heavily based on the song "Lullaby for a Stormy Night." hence the title. 
> 
> The first song on my (small- send me song recs pls) Kidge playlist is Recessional because for some reason the person she's talking about seems very Pidge-like and the reactions to her feel Keithy to me. You know, in case you ever wondered about my headspace, I'm determined to do art/fic to Recessional.

\-----

 

Something woke him up. For a moment or two he lay, face down in the pillows. One arm was stretched over the rest of the empty space of the mattress.  
  
Rain. The sounds of rain rapping against the windows comes to his ears, occasionally shrill as a drop hits hard on the right part of the glass.  
Light floods the room and he squeezes his eyes shut against the intrusion. As thunder rumbles overhead, a different sound has him sitting up, alert.  
  
Another whimper from the next room over and he throws the blankets back, no need for lights- he can see just fine in the dark. 

The slightly smaller room is painted lavender with a sage trim of painterly grassy shapes around the skirting boards. Glow in the dark stars are dotted along the upper walls and ceiling- patterns of real constellations, the one she's named for pride of place over the crib. A nightlight casts a soft glow over the bars and makes the blue tulle canopy glitter.   
  
Inside the crib she's kicking, squirming, whimpers that are bordering on becoming full-on cries.   
Lightning splashes the room up white and the roar of thunder immediately after makes him jump, and his daughter bursts into tears, wailing and thrashing her arms.  
  
"Hey, ssh, it's OK baby." Keith scoops her up and out of the crib and to his chest in a practiced motion. Wet face nestled into his neck he pats and rubs her back, swaying from side to side.  
"I'm here, Starlight." He uses her mother's nickname for her in the hopes it'll help. She continues to cry and while he cannot see from this angle, he pictures her mouth a red 'o', eyes scrunched and leaking tears. She's warm from the effort of her sobs and he pops one of the snap buttons on her pajamas.   
  
When a few more minutes pass with no real change, he glances at the clock on the wall. He could try her with a bottle, but it's not been that long since her last feed. She's dry, on the bottom half anyway, large dramatic tears are rolling down pink cheeks, pooling in the folds of her neck and against his shirt.  
  
The pitches and renewals in her cries seem to coincide with the crashes of thunder and he wonders if her hearing is sensitive, or maybe...  
"Come on, little one." He murmurs in her ear as he makes his way out of the nursery and into the rest of the house. It's slightly darker, and downstairs the sounds are lessened and the walls don't rattle when the storm bellows to be let in.  
  
"I used to be scared of thunderstorms too." He says to her, a secret they can share. "The storms in the desert were so loud, and our house wasn't strong like this one."  
  
He puts a bottle in to warm without turning the kitchen lights on. Even if she won't take it, it will save for later.  
"I used to have to run down the hall, I thought the wind sounded like monsters." The shadows of the trees outside had cast shadows like claws, creatures rattling at the loose shingles to come and get him. Her breath hitches and she hiccups against him before dissolving into more broken wails.

"But my dad always let me get in his bed. Or we'd sit in one of the chairs with my blanket. He always protected me."

She refuses the bottle, as he guessed she might, and together they walk through the dark into the den. The rain is pelting against the opposite side of the house, so it's quiet here. His favourite armchair, an old beaten squashy thing with soft upholstery sits half-facing away from the window and he sinks into it, tugging a fluffy throw down from its headrest and over his shoulders.   
  
"I'll always protect you, my sweet girl. I'll always be here."  
  
Another flash, this time not as bright illuminates her tear-stained face and he kisses her head.  
"I'm here," He repeats, quiet and steady under her whimpers. "You know, the rain is good for us. You'll see in the morning."   
  
With a single thumb that's bigger than her palm he wipes the moisture from her cheeks. "It'll soak into the soil and feed all the plants and flowers."

He thinks of the arid, normally yellow and brown desert and the wonder with which he'd look upon the fresh grass, rejuvenated plants turning green and cautiously offering flowers to the sky. 

"Everything will be green in the morning. It's scary now, but it will be beautiful soon, you'll see."  
  
He closes his eyes and rumbles to her, a sound that starts low in his chest and builds up under his skin. The image of his mother's face, split in delight when they found he could purr to his Galran child makes him smile even as the concept still baffles him. It is something that works though, and remembering how Pidge had pouted that she couldn't do it makes him laugh once in his throat.  
  
Lyra twitches, breath still uneven from when her sobs had tipped over into that awful, hysterical frenzy. Now she's whining, but it's softer, leftover cries that need to be let out. There's a little, stuttering buzz in return against his shoulder and he presses his cheek to her head.  
  
Her hair is fluffy against his face, his free hand still palming circles over her shoulder and arm as she quiets.  
"There we go. There's nothing to be afraid of, not when I'm here for you."  
  
He glances at the window. There's no sign that the rain wants to let up and he frowns. It's way past midnight. It was after 1am already when he was woken up by the rain.  
  
Pidge should be home by now. 

  
He'd left his communicator by the bed. Lyra is starting to settle, no longer crying, but still fidgeting and occasionally trying to push against his skin to look up at him. She grunts and babbles, little hands planted on his collarbone and pressing with all her strength against him.

"Yes," he says and hoists her up a little so that she can stare into his eyes. "Mama should be home by now, I know." He sticks his tongue out at her because he doesn't want to frown or look worried, and that's what you do with babies, you pull faces. Lyra is unimpressed and carries on staring with large brown eyes, a deep honey colour that proudly announces her Holt heritage, but with something distinctly feline about them.  
  
He doesn't like the idea of Pidge driving home alone when the rain is so thick and heavy. He could get Lyra's puffy travel coat, strap her into the car and go to the office, or-   
No, she's only just relaxed again, taking her out under such poor visibility would be dangerous, and besides, they have-

"Hey bud?" He looks around, then eases himself out of the chair, draping the throw around his shoulders like a cape. Lyra grabs for a fluffy wrinkle and clutches it, tucking her head under his neck and starting her little buzzing purr again as he pats her butt.

   
He calls again, padding through the house, and just as he gets to the door to the kitchen it opens on its own and he freezes. 

  
Pidge is on the other side, looking thoroughly exhausted, blue orbs of light are catching around her labcoat and behind her Kosmo looks pleased with himself.  
"You're home." He says in a rush of relief, and she nearly falls forwards in her eagerness to hug him.

"I'm sorry, I had that last report to finish and I didn't realise the time until Kosmo came to get me." Pidge yawns and removes her glasses before nuzzling at Lyra's face. "I still never finished but I think I can wing the rest of it for tomorrow's meeting. One last meeting and I'm done."   
  
"Are you hungry?"  
"No, just tired. And excited. I'm going to be on  _leave_. Actual leave. With my family. I can't believe that the concept of not working has me so happy."   
"I'm glad you'll be taking a break." Lyra has hold of a lock of Pidge's hair and he lets her take her from him, cuddling up and kissing her cheeks.  
  
"You're not normally so awake at this time, little one."  
"Tonight we learned she's not a fan of storms."  
"Aha." She says, and blows a raspberry on her daughter's round cheek. "Neither is your daddy."  
  
"I told her that." Together, with one hand on the small of her back they make the journey upstairs to their bedroom.   
"Daddy-daughter bonding time?"  
"Something like that. She mostly cried until I took her into the den."  
"I should have been here." Pidge shifts their baby into her other arm, and presses a kiss to her forehead, trilling her tongue low in an imitation of a short purr that Krolia said would communicate affection. "I'm sorry, Starlight."   
"You're here now. I was worried about you trying to drive home in this."  
"Kosmo took care of me."

They swap again so that Pidge can brush her teeth, untie her hair and change into clean pajamas. He's contemplating the outcome of putting her back in her crib- her eyes are drooping again despite the rain still rattling heavy against the windows- but Pidge gathers her back up when she returns, and maneuvers into the bed.

"I want cuddles tonight." She announces softly, and Lyra clings to her pajama straps like a koala bear.  
"Great idea."   
  
Keith tucks back into his side, and Pidge wriggles over to lean against him.  
"Where do you want to go first? Once we're on leave?"  
  
"Altea? Let's go to Altea, show off my gorgeous girl. You're so beautiful." Pidge is cooing to her, nuzzling at the black curls on her head.  
  
"Just to show off in general? Because you know Allura was sensitive about Ariana's ears when she was born-"  
"I'm hurt you think I'd show off to one of my best friends that my baby is cuter than hers."  
  
"Pidge," He says warningly, "Of course she's cuter but it's bad form."  
"She got over it as soon as she saw those baby blues." Pidge smirks, "But my little one wins the award for cutest ears."  
  
Lyra is staring again, but her eyes keep closing even as Keith fastens the buttons on her pajamas back up.   
"She's gonna freak everyone out with all that staring." He grins, and rolls to lay on his side, head resting on his upper arm. Pidge mirrors him, gently moving Lyra to lie between them, but she somehow shuffles closer to Pidge as she draws her knees up to surround her as much as possible.   
  
Thunder cracks again but this time she barely twitches. Pidge is watching her through sleepy, half-lidded eyes, one finger claimed by their daughter's fists and Keith smiles at the sight.   
  
"Last day tomorrow."  
"Yes," She breathes, "Tomorrow. Do you think Jacobson would fire me if I told him to kiss my ass?"  
He stifles a laugh. "Don't push it. He's not happy about you going on such a long leave. Though," he leans forward a little until their noses touch. "If you weren't contracted to the Garrison, you could come with me properly. The three of us in space."  
"You're really tempting me."  
"Go to sleep, Pidge. Big day tomorrow, and neither of us have packed."  
  
"Party pooper." She replies, but it's thick with the pull of sleep.   
"We'll both come and cheer you on."  
"It's a meeting, not a parade. You won't be... allowed in..." He strains to hear her words as she drifts off.  
  
There comes that warm feeling, complete with a pleasant shiver down the spine, when it is raining and blowing fiercely outside, but you are wrapped safe and warm in bed. It's quiet in their little cocoon, the little puffs of air whenever his baby breathes out serves only to melt Keith further into the mattress.

Pidge's breathing has evened out and he matches it, his own eyes heavy. The last thing he remembers doing is resting his hand on Lyra's belly to feel it rise and fall, before letting the storm sounds lull him under.

**Author's Note:**

> Where I live it doesn't rain often, but when it does it rains HARD and in the morning the dead grass is suddenly alive again and knee height ^^;
> 
> As you might have picked up from the implications of the last babu story, they didn't really prep for this baby's arrival. Pidge said she was being pragmatic ( read: trying not to get her hopes up right up until the last minute) so she refused to pick names or accept gifts or talk much about it. Keith hid prints from their scans in a box.  
> I decided that they got home from the hospital to find that Matt had let Hunk, Lance, Allura and Shiro in to decorate the baby's room. Hunk and Shiro paneled and prepped the walls, laid the carpet and also built the crib from scratch. Lance painted the grass and flowers, Coran and Allura brought the Altean canopy for the bed and nightlight. 
> 
> Can you imagine Allura's reaction if Keith's kids got pointy ears and hers didn't??? DW Allura I would never do that to you.
> 
> As always come shout with me about VLD and Pidge and Keef <3


End file.
